All I Need
by Al Kristopher
Summary: Another Lucile x Elma story, more dramatic and personal than my last. Both women have been missing something all their lives, that elusive thing that makes their pain worthwhile. Perhaps what they need is each other. Rating's for...well, YOU know.


__

All I Need

By Al Kristopher

Lucile took a breath. She needed air.

She shoved the plate of crumbs away, along with the moist bottle. She needed food and water.

Her hands closed in prayer as she bowed to the statuette of Lord Mi'ihen. She needed faith.

Then, she touched her heart carefully, knowing she lacked one more thing needed for survival.

The portrait of her family stared back at her, lifeless as the sphere which it hovered over. She turned it off, sighed, and began to read. Knowing it was poor to eat immediately before bed, she decided to bone up on her study of chocobos and other topics she liked. It certainly wouldn't put her to sleep, but it would help her wait out her body's digestion. Serious scientific study of the chocobo, _avis struthigallus_, had begun around two millennia ago, when the birds were first discovered by Lieutenant Chouca Bowman, who later named them after himself. They were labeled as relatively tame, and after some effort, bonding, and breeding, easily domesticated--as well as edible.

That part sickened Lucile, even though she had seen the birds being cooked in certain situations. She had never wanted to taste them herself; it would be like the land-riders of olden times having their mythical "horses" for supper. It was like using machina--forbidden, even taboo. Still, much of the information provided in the textbook was fascinating (or so Clasko had said). Chocobos' speed was not so much due to their powerful legs, but also their near-weightless bodies. Lucile remembered that as a child, she was in awe of "strongmen" who could lift two fully-grown birds up above their heads, but later in life she learned how easy this really was.

Her thin, humble strip of lavender cloth rested over the words of _Chapter 14: Inner Structure of the Chocobo_ as she put it away. She looked at her empty plate again and cleaned it off, then at the sphere which held the portrait of her family. She still had both parents, both brothers, and sister there in that picture; she always would, no matter what. She frowned and decided to do nothing to the sphere except deactivate it; instead, she closed her evening robe and slipped into bed all by herself. When morning came, she would wake up and nothing would have changed except the weather. It was supposed to be warmer tomorrow.

----------

Elma had searched the world over for a role model, something to call a firm rock in inclement weather, and found it in Captain Lucile. Well, in all honesty, "the world over" only seemed big because she had searched so long, with so little fruit to bear, and more disappointments than she ever wanted to discover. Yes, that must have been the cruel message Spira was delivering: there _is_ nothing to cling onto in this place. You can't expect some miracle person to come along and be exactly as wonderful as you've imagined. You can only dig that blade of hope further into your body until it kills you; keep trying, you fool. But Elma was no fool, and she certainly didn't come away from her search a loser. Of all the people for her to find, after so many losses and grave disappointments, who would have thought that such blessings could form into the woman called Lucile?

At first, Elma was slightly deceived. In the back of her mind, she knew that her Captain's first impression would be the one she remembered, and what an impression that had been! Forceful, strict, commanding, powerful, and dangerously beautiful, Lucile took her job seriously and didn't take failure for an answer. She was determined to fight Sin, personally if necessary, and would shape her lackluster troops into the rocky fighters necessary to complete the job. They would all be Lucile-copies, or Mi'ihen-copies, or copies of whichever warrior or commanding officer seemed best at the time. To Elma, Lucile carried the mantle of perfection on two very capable, strong shoulders.

The impression lasted well into the time Elma was made a knight, but even the mightiest rocks can crumble--but even those rocks only crumbled when they knew nobody would be around to see them faltering. Lucile had too much pride to be known as a "weak" person; it must've been the most difficult and terrible job of all to keep a face of strength and command. Elma had to admit that she respected summoners greatly after realizing this, and she did not regret being there for her Captain's fleeting moment of fallibility.

They had been riding together, as usual, but were separated from their pack as per orders. Colonel Mark Tiger, one of the few chocobo knights higher in rank than Lucile, had sent his platoon scattering in the face of a dangerous fiend attack. The knights and the fiends split apart and crashed against each other like waves from opposing oceans, and heavy casualties had piled up by the end of the day. Even the Colonel himself had been killed, though not without immense struggle. Elma remembered him fighting just as fiercely even with a spear clearly protruding from his stomach. Remembering the event made her shudder.

Lucile had been hit too, and quite badly. She did not lose that hardcore strength Elma had seen in her ever since she was first recruited, though--she merely shook the blow off, killed the troublesome creature, and went on riding. Elma forced herself to look away from such a vision of strength as she resumed fighting, and by the time the sun sank low into the distant lands, the battle had been won. More fiends had died than knights or Crusaders, but the loss of the Colonel weighed heavy on everybody. Many wept. A summoner, silent and reclusive, was called in to send those that had fallen, and the living saluted them all. Not one tear came from Lucile's face.

No, the moment of supposed "weakness" came later, when a fairly placid Elma was making her rounds. She wanted to surprise her Captain, and so she put together a tray full of magnificent food to deliver to the "hero". Gestures like that were uncommon, so Lucile would probably appreciate it. Besides, Elma loved speaking with her commanding officer, even if she had to obey protocol. To tell the truth, she loved admiring and respecting her Captain; following orders was a pleasure, not a chore.

Elma approached the tent her Captain was resting in and tried to do away with her happy smile. If she didn't appear very solemn upon the wake of the Colonel, she would be scolded. Calmly, she slapped her hand against the fold of the tent and asked if Lucile was inside (she couldn't very well _knock_). She didn't hear a conformation, so she assumed the redhead was elsewhere. It was then that fate, along with a good sense of hearing, intervened.

Elma heard Lucile _crying._

Naturally, she paused, unsure what to do or how to react. Lucile _crying?_ What did she have to be sad about? She looked fine during the sending, and barely showed any emotion aside from quiet humility every time another member of her squad passed on. So why now? Elma wanted to know, but she knew that barging inside a private tent where a superior officer was having some emotional difficult was not a smart thing to do. She decided, after some thought, to try entering again with words.

"Captain? Are you inside? I brought you some food. Sori made more than we needed, of course, and I noticed you didn't join the others, so… um… I mean, are you inside? Or am I making a fool out of myself by speaking with the air?" Lucile answered back quickly, like she had gained her composure.

"No, I… I'm sorry. I didn't hear you call the first time. Come in, Elma, and thank you." She did, and asked no questions about Lucile's faint sob earlier on. She noticed a sphere in her Captain's quarters, and asked about it. Lucile showed it to her briefly, explaining that it was a recording of her family, fifteen years earlier. Elma smiled innocently and said something about how families were important during those dark years that Sin roamed Spira. Lucile said nothing.

-----

Lucile had kept the tray of food long after dismissing Elma. She ate her supper with quiet reflection, only keeping the younger knight inside her quarters long enough to accept the tray and exchange some words. To have a subordinate officer see her straining so emotionally wouldn't have been proper, and besides, it was very rude to eat with a guest present. The food was gone now, delicious and filling, and all traces of its activity had already ran the gauntlet of Lucile's digestive system. She slept and tried not to have many dreams. She woke as a ray of blinding sunshine broke through a slit of the tent, squinted, and rose. Oddly enough, she was hungry again--and she was right. Nothing had changed, except the weather. It was a bit warmer outdoors.

She stepped outside after a short rinse and change of clothes, and once again put on the barrier of strength she always kept up. Even those closest to her--even Elma, her best pupil--could never see her as anything less than strong. _Nobody_ could, and nobody ever would. Ever.

The sphere in her room had been activated briefly, then shut off in disgust.

-----

It was hard to remember Lucile ever being weak when she barked at her troops. The lady was strong and quite forceful; indeed, she would have invoked thought into the true definition of "lady". Certainly, there was grace, humility, dignity, and even feminine charm to be seen in Lucile, but the redheaded Captain exercised all those qualities with the force of power behind them, like how a leaf would be blown fiercely by a gale wind. Elma still had no idea how many years her Captain had blessed Spira with, but it certainly must've been more than hers. With her score-and-two-years, she could manage a few knights and Crusaders, but Lucile struck terrible authority into the bones of even the hardiest and most stubborn of warriors.

She guessed the woman had to be at least 27. Five years… was not that much.

"Today, we will be the escort service of the Filiadrank Corporation's representative," Lucile announced, her voice shrill and firm. "The reports of fiendish activity have been increasing along these parts, so we are responsible for their safety. Since I've just recently became aware of three other requests for mounted forces, I've prepared you all for a separation. Those of you who have been selected for your appointed tasks should meet with your respective commanding officers. I expect those in my group to be ready at a moment's notice. I do not take failure for an answer."

"Yes, Captain-sir!" came the chant of the knights. Elma smiled lightly as she saluted. That famous, chilling mantra of Captain Lucile's, "I do not take failure for an answer", was one of the many reasons she loved and admired the woman. Those feelings had been purely "professional" at first, but now Elma couldn't deny that her loyalty and love were now deeper than they were before. She would bleed for that woman--and she had, on numerous occasions. Her battle-scars were beautiful marks of high honor to her.

The knights and Crusaders split apart, leaving Elma and a small portion of those that remained to tag along with Lucile and the representative. She gave her Captain a fond smile, which was returned, as always, with the nod of esteem. Lucile treated all charges exactly the same in public, even if they were distant relatives (and some were). Elma walked on towards her mount, making a brief observation of the persons she had been ordered to protect. To her surprise, they were quite unlike the snobbish, pasty-faced, thin-limbed bullies of the upper crust; no, the Filiadrank Corporation had kind, hardworking, hearty members in its gang, although on the whole they were not exactly smart people.

"We are to escort them to the Moonflow, where they will ride shoopuf to Macalania," said Lucile, reminding her troops for the second time of their mission. Although strict, she was also kind and very patient, making sure that she went to the extent of gathering her forces and recapping the situation. "If the fiends persist," she continued briefly, "we will drive them off. Yevon be with us."

"Hail!" Swords and spears flew into the air, and great yellow birds were mounted as the small team of bodyguards prepared to leave. A chocobo-drawn buggy carried the Filiadranks, warm and strong though not too bright themselves, and Lucile was already in front, scouting for enemies. That was just like her: all business from the get-go. And sometimes, the worst fiends really did strike as soon as the journey began.

Elma kept watch over her Captain ever since the entourage moved, and didn't stray until they decided to rest, five lonesome hours later. The path to Moonflow wasn't littered with fiends, but the group kept occupied and took down every one until they arrived. Choosing the chocobo knights to protect the carriage was a smart move; most of the fiends posed no challenge, and those that did felt the pain of Lucile's blade. Elma's heart fluttered with rapture every time she killed a fiend, and felt herself becoming _closer_ to her Captain somehow. Lucile would always be better, though--she would always be stronger, more in control, more focused and calm, and that gave Elma endless pleasure. Truly, if anybody deserved to be anybody's role model, their rock in life, Lucile took the credit.

On those many missions she undertook and battles she fought, Elma never knew the truth.

----------

Lucile shut the world behind her as the last bits of pink light gave way to gray, then blue, and finally dark as the world revolved into night. The tent's flaps were shut tight; she undressed and slipped into a fresh robe, and went to a small cupboard she had the luxury of keeping. A single bottle of wine was there, along with some personals and the sphere. She took out the bottle and the sphere, and poured herself a small glass. She then activated the sphere and looked at the image as she drank. She had a father, a mother, two brothers, and a sister in that picture, and they were all older than her. She was the runt of the litter.

Lucile's breathing increased as she touched the sphere. Her three siblings were all smiling, but she was not. Of course, back then, she never had much of a reason to smile. And even now, she didn't. Things had not changed. It would be warm again tomorrow; things would never change. She would always be… Yes, in their eyes, no matter how hard she tried…

She finished the wine and kept the picture out, glowing with the same gentle white light. She took another breath and released it slowly. She needed air. Lucile swallowed, feeling the wine slip down into her body. She needed food and drink. The symbol of Yevon, the eye-creature with wings, rested quietly in her cupboard of personals. She needed faith. The people in the sphere looked back at her with dead eyes, but even then, they still seemed to whisper to her, from across the years and distances, one even across the Farplane. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing tears out as she touched her heart.

There was something missing, and it was folly to say that life could exist without it.

"_Damn_ you!!!"

With a violent swat, Lucile knocked the activated sphere off its perch, sending it to the ground. She growled ferociously at the object and pounded it with her fist. It refused to break, so in a fit of fury, she reached for the heaviest object she could find. Her hands found her sword, of all things, and with it she smashed the sphere again and again, each downward thrust as hateful and furious as the last. Even long after the machine had been annihilated, Lucile stamped her foot down on it, making sure that every last piece was destroyed. In only two minutes, the sphere had been desecrated by an eruption of uncharacteristic rancor, and now all that remained were pieces.

Lucile trembled from the aftershock of her actions. She wept bitter, confused tears as she stumbled to find a broom and dustpan. With some effort, she managed to cling onto a few makeshift items, and scraped the trashed remains up until there was nothing left. Her strength left her as she completed her task, and the duster and pan slipped out of her hands. Captain Lucile of the Djose Chocobo Knights then fell on her bottom and stayed on the floor, where she wept and wept with eyes wide open.

"Captain?" The tent vibrated as a firm hand rapped against its canvas. "Are you all right? I heard someone screaming."

It was Elma. Lucile said nothing. She didn't even bother making herself presentable.

"Captain? Are you all right? Is something wrong? Or am I just talking to myself again?"

"I'm… I'm here, Elma," she replied. Funny, though--her voice was just as shrill and strong as ever. Force of habit, perhaps. Elma would probably be shamed to see her mighty commander in such shambles--and crying over a picture, no less! She entered the tent casually, sans dinner, and took a considerable while to gape at the fallen monument. Her beloved Captain Lucile, strong without a trace of insufficiency, firm and strict yet ever-fair and bold in battle, was sitting on the floor undignified, a few shards of broken glass and metal before her, tears coming down her face and her robe partially open. Her face was flush with humiliation.

"Captain, what… happened?" whispered Elma gently. Lucile shook her head. Elma then noticed that the sphere that had the recording of her family was gone from its place. After noticing the small traces of broken glass and metal still on the floor--and in the dustpan, and on Lucile's slippers--she slowly began to understand what had happened. In spite of how awkward and embarrassing it must've been for Lucile, Elma gave her beloved Captain a warm smile of understanding.

"I see. Okay. Are you all right?" Lucile swallowed, and found that her voice, amazingly, remained firm.

"No… there is nothing all right here. Everything, as you see it, is… wrong."

"Do you want to talk about it, ma'am?" she asked quietly, sitting down across from her. Lucile nodded.

"It would be good… to have somebody else know. You see before you the affects of carrying too many burdens for too many years. What good would it do me now, especially since the person I know and trust the most is before me?"

"Thank you, Captain."

"It's just how I feel," she murmured absently. "I've known you for long enough, and… I'm sorry that if sometimes, I do not give you the respect or recognition you deserve."

"It's okay, really. I don't mind not being in the spotlight. You deserve it, Captain. You're an example to all of us--"

"I'm nothing," she muttered bitterly. Elma reached out on instinct and took her Captain's reddish hair in a caress.

"No, don't say that, Captain! You mean everything to us! We'd all be a bunch of disorganized post-teenage drifters if it weren't for you--or else dead, or worse, unsent. You _saved_ us, Lucile--oh, um, sorry for the breach of protocol, ma'am."

"There's no use for it now," replied Lucile calmly, closing her eyes in thought. "Besides… we're alone. You may… address me by name… if you'd like."

"All right. But… Captain… _Lucile_… I want to know what's going on. You're crying, and the floor's a mess. Your family sphere's been destroyed, and… well… was it an accident?"

Silence.

"No, it was not. That scream you heard was me… losing my temper over… many things."

"Lose your temper?" parroted Elma. "Captain… you've never…"

"We all do sometimes, but we don't always show it," she said quietly. "I… exceeded the boundaries of my calm and dignified persona. Forgive me." Elma shook her head and calmly ran her hands through Lucile's hair. An event like that on any normal day would seem surreal, even implausible--but now it was almost expected, like something that should have happened under normal circumstance but had been held back somehow. Elma smiled.

"I do, I do, but… why did you knock it over and break it? I mean, I thought…"

"There's so little that we know about each other," sighed Lucile in a lament. She gave her charge a sad smile, as if her mere presence were helping her recover. "I regret knowing so very little about you, Elma, especially. It is our duty, I think, and our obligation that must set us apart like that in public. We must always appear as such so as to not… upset anyone, I think. People will grow fearful if they see their idols and pillars of strength wane."

"But I'm not afraid," whispered Elma tenderly, giving Lucile's hand a squeeze. Lucile blinked away another unlikely tear and smiled.

"You are… the greatest friend… I have ever known…"

"Then trust me with your secret," replied Elma calmly, yet as strong as ever. "Trust me, please. I want to know you, Lucile. I want you to feel so comfortable around me that you can readily expose any weakness to me, any secret, and know that I will admire and love you stronger than before, and that also… I would keep it all to myself, and see you brighter because of the strength it took to risk something like that. Hearts… are so frail…"

"…Elma…"

There were minutes of quiet that presented a curtain between acts. Elma breathed in and out, and vaguely, though keeping her eyes focused solely on Lucile, she noticed the tray she had brought in a few days earlier was still there. Lucile had kept it, cleaned it, and--hopefully--cherished it as a gift. The winged eye of Yevon rested comfortably on a mantle. Crickets sang outside and several chocobos cooed gently in their sleep. Lucile's breathing had slowed down to a calm rhythm, her lungs filling and releasing normally now that her anger had been completely released and set free into the dark sky. Elma smelled good. Lucile was just as beautiful when she looked helpless as when she looked her mightiest. Both sides of her, the human and the supreme, were things to be admired, cherished, and held close with tender arms of loving care.

Lucile desperately wanted to hug Elma and never let go--and let protocol be damned.

"Very well," she whispered after the pause. "I will trust you, Elma. It is because… I like you… and I feel that you are now giving me something that I have missed for all my life, something I've never felt or had before. Yet… could I give what I had not? Did you… ever feel, during your days of service, that I…?"

Another pause. Elma smiled.

"Yes. I did."

She knew. She didn't need to hear. She had more sense than that to know.

"I see. Thank you. So perhaps I did have what I thought I had not. It's strange, really. It's one of those gifts that you can give out without ever owning yourself. You see, my family never gave me any…"

"Love," said Elma. Lucile nodded, and repeated the foreign word.

"Love… Never. Not once. After my brothers and sisters were born, I was ignored. I was the youngest, the runt of the litter, the… last in line, least in love, the… 'emergency' child. My brothers went on to do their own things, and my parents poured their adulation out on them. One died a supposed noble death defending his summoner. My sister, even more ignorant of me than the rest, left us all and stole what little fortune I had saved up from years of labor. I've not heard from any of them since I left to enlist, and I don't ever care to. Each day and night, I used to stare at that abominable sphere and wonder what they'd think of me. Was Lucile still little, useless, and not worth bothering over? Was she still an inconvenient, accidental child conceived by mistake one nonchalant evening? Was… my purpose for naught?

"I… decided to destroy the sphere, because I could take no more. I hated them for making me feel worthless. I hated being brought up like that, Elma. And worst of all…" Lucile paused, and gave into the quiet tears that scarred her face. Still proud, though, still stubborn, she refused to let her voice crumble, and continued as firm as ever, "…Worst of all… I never experienced any kind of love. They… just never bothered. If my brother and sister died as well, then maybe. But not until then, because… I was just unwanted. I have since spent the past twenty years trying to prove them wrong. Elma… tell me the truth: have I succeeded in what I sent out to do? If so, then why… does my heart… feel so… empty…?"

Lucile closed her eyes and let the silence take control once again. Elma swallowed, and decided to give into her desires. If ever there was a time that Captain Lucile needed to be held with tender hands, it was now. She brought the older woman in, squeezed gently, and smiled as she felt the other woman's arms encompass her. Lucile embraced her in _return_. That was a good sign.

"I'm here for you, Lucile," whispered Elma lovingly. She could feel the small shiver of happiness that welled up in Lucile's pit as she heard that, and it made Elma smile. To give such simple pleasure to the woman she respected…

__

Yevon in heaven, who am I kidding? I'm… in love with my own commanding officer.

She felt her beloved Captain loosen her grip a little. They parted, and both smiled at each other, perhaps even looking silly. It didn't matter. Lucile seemed happier in that moment than Elma had ever seen her, _ever_. Even when she smiled and laughed in public, she never really looked like there was much joy in her life. The woman smiled only when she had good cause to, or else when her barrier cracked and splintered and the good, soft, vulnerable parts of her slipped out for all to see. Elma had caught those moments all with her keen eye, at least those shown when she was around. Perhaps Lucile never really smiled when she was alone. She probably wouldn't have reason to.

"I'm here for you, Lucile," she whispered again, making sure the redhead understood. A frail, shy smile came from the monument of power, the pillar of might, that gentle barrier for which nothing could penetrate through, and it was more beautiful because of how vulnerable the rocky Lucile allowed herself to become. Words were not needed to express such deep trust and immediate devotion; mere gazes, movements of the eye and mouth, simple lingering touches made in silent privacy were sufficient, and more gorgeous still because of their warm gold.

Lucile knew that more than anything, she wanted to kiss Elma.

Elma knew that more than anyone, she wanted to kiss Lucile.

If they did, though, it would be tremendously hard to stop. They did anyway.

Through erotic sounds, clinging touches, flashes of passion and the deep fires of love flared up after so many years of being cold, the two knights managed to stop and stare at each other, numbly puzzled at what had happened.

"I kissed you," whispered Lucile, sounding shocked. Elma touched her lips.

"I… put… my mouth… right there… and we…"

"I want to do it again," spoke Lucile quickly. The dam burst unexpectedly and Elma let out a piercing laugh. Lucile grinned along, not bothering to restrain herself because of duty or obligation. They did kiss again, and again, and their arms found themselves in their proper, rightful positions as once again the two knights embraced and knew that a certain feeling, a definite bond had been made.

It sounded awfully corny, but the two halves of the puzzle forged together that night, and made a single whole--unbreakable in its construction, sealed together by the fires of love. After much kissing--much, _much_ kissing--Lucile broke away suddenly and blushed. She grinned coyly, almost girlishly, as she noticed Elma's hands had inconspicuously found their way to the sash that kept her night robe tied together.

"Elma…"

"Oh… forgive me, Captain," blurted the poor brunette, blushing redder from such actions. "I, ah, I'm sorry, uh… I got too carried away. I'm really--"

Lucile kissed her, of course.

"Be silent, Elma. We are not in public. You will call me _Lucile_ now, do you understand?"

"Yes… Lucile." Elma could not hold her smile down. She could tell just by looking that her dear Captain was having the time of her life giving orders. The coy grin she wore expressed no hesitation in acting those orders out, either.

"Furthermore," resumed the redhead as she took her charge's hands, "you will assume full honors, rights, and privileges of a friendship with me. I have been foolish long enough in refusing your love, even if at the beginning, it was friendly. I--_we_ have many years in which to make up for that error, though."

"Friends?" said Elma coyly, tilting her head. "Just friends? Capt--Lucile, it's an honor, of course, and I'm happy, but…"

"Oh, you were…"

"……Yes." Elma blushed, as if she were almost afraid to let _herself_ be vulnerable. Imagine the irony! She gathered her voice, which was far from strong, and tried to stutter out her feelings. "I, uh… well… Lucile… I love you, see." Lucile's face softened, and she smiled once again. Friends? Of course? But beyond that? Yevon's teachings would forbid it sharply.

"I love you, Elma," she whispered, holding the younger woman's face in her hands. She gently pulled her close and kissed her many times, all over and under until Elma shuddered and her hands found themselves naughty once more. Lucile let them slide, so to speak, and opened herself up to Elma, unashamed yet feeling… shy, vulnerable, like an untested chocobo that is asked to trot a few miles. Love was so… dangerous and new to her. She knew it would be the most fun, exciting thing ever, but it was still so foreign. Things had to go slow. Theoretically.

"You're gorgeous, Lucile!" hissed Elma sharply, obviously in rapturous awe in the presence of her Captain. Lucile smiled, still shy, but knew that she could trust her Elma with everything, even the barest, most uncovered parts of her soul. She closed her eyes and began to kiss her newfound love's sensitive neck.

"Elma… Elma… Elma… Elma…" Her skilled, battle-hardened fingers found their way to Elma's crop of dark hair, and combed and caressed through it with intense loving skill. Elma shuddered uncontrollably as divine pleasure raked through her scalp and around her neck. What passion! Feeling her Captain's fingers and lips dive into those sensitive, delicious parts of her were numbing enough, but to hear her name being whispered over and over again, each time with love and yearning and years of buried love finally coming out in full force…

"Orgasmic" was the best thing she could come up with--and she still had her clothes on!

That problem was solved after several minutes--or hours, since time didn't seem to have much significance in the face of pleasure. Elma's own Self decided to be vulnerable, and the soft gentleness of a body made strong under the heat of many battles revealed itself. Elma blushed at first but found the experience to be totally comforting, even flattering. Lucile had risked everything--or really, nothing, to tell the truth--by revealing her Self so completely, and she had smiled and accepted it and saw the warm love in Elma's eyes grow as she did, just as promised. Far be it from her to not return the gesture.

"You are… by far… more beautiful than the greatest sunrise that brings forth the longest and most welcome peace in all of ages," whispered Lucile quietly, tracing her fingers lightly across Elma's faded battle scars. Elma blushed. Her Captain definitely had a way with words, no doubt about that.

"Yeah," she managed, "but you're the cute one."

"And evermore Calm, be it filled with the laughter of joy from every generation that walks this Spira, free from Sin and the harvest of grim reapers, even this has a pale, cold cloud in the face of the warm goodness that my beloved carries as she gives me a smile and knows no bounds for the love of her lady."

"Oh, Lucile…" Elma literally wept at the beauty her Captain commanded, and closed her eyes as the words ceased and thousands of other greater pleasures were given to her, each one amazingly pure and wholesome since they all came from one who thought that the final part of her life had been lacking. Elma gave everything to Lucile and asked for the woman's trust and love in return; when it was her turn, Lucile laid down quietly and watched, her fingers and smile speaking more than her eloquence could bear, and surrendered all pieces of vulnerability to the woman she knew she would adore loving.

Before the night was through, the last great barrier had been taken away, and both Elma and Lucile gave each other love many times before tiring out completely.

----------

With so many similes whispered concerning the sun that evening (and following that, the very early hours of the morning), one would think that Lucile would tire of it. A ray of blinding sun peeped through a hole in the tent, placed so it would wake the knight Captain up with the rising sphere. Lucile grumbled, feeling exhausted on many levels. She had worn herself out the previous night (and morning), and barely got three hours of sleep from it. But what a sleep! Or… was it just some fanciful, wonderful dream? Elma was nowhere in sight. Lucile sighed sadly as all traces of her beloved were swept away with the clouds of dark.

"…I anticipate that this day will be just the same as the others," she murmured to herself. "Warm, yes. But… I may yet feel that chill." Lucile sighed and hugged herself, realizing how fully, completely, and desperately she needed Elma in her life--how much she _loved_ her. She remembered a few conversations from the previous evening, spoken during those small periods of rest, when all they did was hold each other. They… held each other… in that dream…

_"Lucile, I'm curious to know. If I were a man, would you still love me the same?"_ Elma had asked. Lucile remembered herself giggling. She remembered because that had been the first time she ever giggled in her life.

_"Well, to be perfectly honest, yes--I would. But you would still be you, right? Elma would still be sweet, loyal, wonderful, beautiful Elma, no matter what."_

_"……I suppose I would,"_ she had sighed. _"And I guess you're right. But… fate and genetics made me a woman. Does that bother you?"_

_"Not at all, really. I feel like… we can understand each other better because of it."_

_"Yeah, but neither one of us are having babies anytime soon. Listen, Lucile--you didn't want to ever settle down and raise a family of your own anytime soon, did you?"_

"I had thought about it, certainly. Now it seems that doesn't matter so much. As long as I have my love here, all I need is air, food, water, and faith--and nothing else."

"Oh yeah. You've got to pray just to make it today." They had shared a laugh, then a kiss, then went straight back to their activities, Elma explaining how much _fun_ it was taking orders from her precious Captain. Lucile shuddered with bittersweet joy as she remembered that part. Elma had held her desperately, as if she were afraid the love of her life would ever slip away. She kissed the back of her neck while her hands tenderly swept across Lucile's bare chest, stomach, and waist.

_"Precious,"_ she had whispered, tears falling down her pale face. _"Beautiful, precious Lucile. My precious, precious Lucile… precious treasure, one that I love…"_ Lucile had shuddered with happiness because she had never been thought of as precious or valuable before. Elma did so many things to make her so happy; she was, in fact, the pillar and the rock that _she_ leaned on, the one whom she could scarcely live without. And now she was gone, probably asleep in her own tent, like the whole thing had been a dream.

Lucile sighed again and began to weep for her lost love.

Elma came into the small bedroom, stark naked, with a tray full of food.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" she announced, sounding chipper. Lucile nearly balked in surprise. She had thought that the entire thing last night was just a dream, the most wonderful dream ever--but then Elma came in suddenly, wearing a happy smile and nothing else! The stalwart, steadfast chocobo knight Captain blushed with confusion.

"Elma…"

"Sorry I didn't stay to cuddle," explained the brunette, sensing her love's bemusement. "I wanted to wake up with you, but I got too hungry. Besides… unbeknownst to me or my ears, you snore like a shoopuff."

"I do not!" spat Lucile angrily. Elma laughed out loud and walked over, swaying just so along with the tray. Lucile's face turned red, though Elma didn't know if it was from anger or embarrassment. She set the tray down right on the sheets of the bed and caressed Lucile's face, drawing strands of red away.

"You're so cute when you're mad, sweetie," she whispered. Lucile managed a watery smile as she shuddered happily from the touch. Elma silently brought a small piece of orange up from the tray and guided it towards her love's opening mouth. She slipped it in gently, squealing "with surprise" as Lucile took a bit of her finger in as well. The squeal became loud as Lucile began pleasuring her greatest love in the most erotic way: she had read that the fingers of humans were very sensitive, and Elma's, apparently, were no exception.

"Hey! There's some perfectly good food down here!" she exclaimed. Lucile slowly released the finger, licked her lips seductively, and bore her dark eyes into Elma's. Turnabout was cruel, fair play.

"_Where's_ the food, Elma?"

"Down here," she repeated, then realized her mistake. "Aah! Captain Lucile!! Don't you dare even try it! I meant the _tray!!!_" Lucile laughed out loud, and would have tackled her beloved and wrestled her to the bed if the tray of delicious, aromatic food wasn't below her. She took a few pieces of fruit and bread into her mouth, chewed politely (even lovers must have _some_ manners in each other's presence), then set the tray aside and committed herself to pinning the brunette to the bed. Elma, dear sweet Elma, barely went without a fight.

----------

Both knights took in the sweet, crisp air of the late morning as they stepped outside Lucile's tent at long last (soon, though, it would become _their_ tent). They stretched, smiled, and marveled at how much the world had (and had not) changed since their shared revelations. They didn't need to speak; they _knew_ what the other woman thought. The wish to become better acquainted had been granted--quickly, yes, although the two had shared a common bond long before that time--and so words were hardly necessary at all. Except for a few.

"Do you think that what we have just done, and what we are going to do for the rest of our lives is good?"

"I think so," replied Elma. Lucile, strong-willed Lucile, faltered--but only in the company of Elma would she ever reveal her true Self.

"I meant to ask that if you think what we're doing is _right_. You know what the teachings of Yevon say about… relationships such as ours."

"Yes ma'am, I do," replied Elma firmly. She then quoted the scriptures directly, "'Man shall not lie with a man as he would with a woman, for that is detestable, and woman shall not lie with a woman as she would with a man, for that too is detestable, so decrees Yevon'. Lucile… forgive me for saying this, but… I have at times questioned the validity of a few of the teachings."

"Hmm, you're not alone," she murmured in assurance. "Laws and rules that were made in affect one-thousand years in the past cannot be expected to withstand the test of time and social change. For example, racial and religious barriers are slipping these days. Guados, Yevonites, and Al Bhed are mixing their peoples, whereas in Yunalesca's time, these bonds were considered sacrilege."

"Or at least unfavorable," added Elma. Lucile nodded.

"You are right. I'm sorry. I do not think I know as much of the teachings as you do." Elma rubbed her chin in thought, and then, suddenly, she snickered. Lucile crossed her eyebrows in confusion. "What is it?"

"It's just… this sounds silly. We were going after each other like rabbits yesterday and earlier today, and now we're talking about the teachings of Yevon like it's no big deal. I just… well, I know there's… I mean… what I'm trying to say…" It was unlike Elma to falter for words, least of all in her Captain's presence. Lucile smiled lovingly and held the younger woman's hand, donating her strength.

"I understand what you mean. Our love is love, though; I think not that Yevon would oppose love. I shall commit myself to you, dear Elma; let us not make disaster when great joy can be found." The brunette grinned shyly, just the way Lucile liked, and nodded.

"Yes. I believe… as long as we love each other without causing any destruction… and we do not bend to popular idea and sway easily--"

"And if we keep it secret at the right times and places," noted Lucile wisely. Elma nodded.

"Right. Then… I think… there can be no wrong here."

"Absolutely, and well-said, my love." Lucile then kissed Elma on the cheek, and ordered her, very gently and lovingly, to gather the troops. Elma obeyed her love and enjoyed every second of it. Besides, those Filiadrank Corporation representatives certainly wouldn't escort _themselves_.

__

The End


End file.
